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by Random Guise
Summary: In this short Doctor Marvin Masada of the medical ship Caruthers finds himself up against one of the most deadly machines ever devised; from the Fred Saberhagen Berserker series of stories. For the record, I don't know anyone who's been into space.


**A/N: A short one-shot taking place in Fred Saberhagen's Berserker universe.**

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_In a very distant past a great distance away, two ancient races were at war. In a bid for dominance one side called The Builders built Berserkers, the ultimate in intelligent killing machines to wipe out all life on their enemy's side, known only as the Red Race. They built their mechanized agents of war well._

_Too well._

_After eliminating the enemy, the machines turned and eliminated their creators and all life that opposed them. They killed with no mercy, compassion or even feeling for these things called emotions were foreign to them. Little resistance was met until they encountered the human race, a race so unpredictable and unfathomable to them it required new strategies._

_Capturing human prisoners referred to as 'goodlife', the machines interrogated and studied the subjects by offering to keep them alive in order to learn of new ways to defeat them. Sometimes it worked._

_..._

Dr. Marvin Masada slowly came to from his unconsciousness. Staring at the ceiling didn't tell him anything, so he looked around by rolling his head to each side and found himself in a plain room devoid of features except for the mat he lay on. He rolled his head forward again and closed his eyes as he thought back.

Attacked.

He had been on a medical relief ship, the _Caruthers_. En route to an outpost, they had been ambushed by a ship that he could only guess was a Berserker. Alone in his cabin, the fight had been over almost before it started as the ship was pummeled and sliced apart by incredible forces. The fact he was alive now was a miracle. Obviously some rescue ship had come along...

He bolted to an upright sitting position. No, that couldn't be it. Where were all the other survivors, or at least the bodies?

"You are awake."

The disembodied voice came from nowhere, but it was plain enough to understand. There must be some way he was being watched, but he couldn't see a camera or anything.

"You alone have been spared from the ship you were traveling on, due to your relatively good physical condition after the action. You will remain alive as long as you help us."

"I would rather die than help in the taking of any life."

"We are not asking for you to do that...yet. We require information on the base located inside the planet known as Bankshot." Marvin stiffened slightly upon hearing the name, stifling any outward reaction. It was said they had means of determining if you were telling the truth; some remote type of lie detector or such. It might have been just a precautionary tale, but Marvin chose to act accordingly.

Bankshot was a small dwarf planet out in the middle of nowhere, a small lifeless sphere circling a small, weak star. The system's only importance was that it lay between places that were actually important; but a plan had been hatched that spread the rumor of a secret underground base located on the body. Many different ships were directed to pass by the system between stops, encouraged to pause long enough for an unnecessary navigational check before continuing; a small group of the scientific community and a few select military people actually knew that nothing was there. A small probe that emitted random-banded radiation was landed as a decoy on the desolate sphere. It was also known that several people aware of the rumor had been captured by Berserkers, and the hope was that the enemy's resources would be spent on the wild goose chase.

"You are familiar with the planet? Your ship was recently there."

"Yes, of course I am aware of the planet." Marvin didn't volunteer any more information.

"You have been inside the base?"

"No. I have always stayed in the ship." That much was true as well. He had never been in the hypothetical base.

"Do you know the nature of activities within the base?"

"No. Any base that secure would be outside my responsibility."

"Unfortunate. Do you have any useful information as to how to it may be entered or destroyed?" The voice didn't sound impatient, but rather simply systematic as though it was going down some programmed checklist. That might be useful. "It is my duty to directly take information from the base, or to destroy it. Your assistance will minimize the loss of life in the action."

"As I said, I have no direct experience with any base that would be below the surface. I am weary from my ordeal; if you allow me to rest I might be able to come up with some general ideas about what strategies might be used in such circumstances."

"Acceptable. You will receive nourishment and a rest interval before you give us the information." The sound cut off and the lights dimmed somewhat. A few minutes later a panel slid open and a metal plate was pushed out before the panel closed. Marvin got up and checked out the offered material. It was edible, and probably contained enough nutrition to get him by for a short time. At least time enough to think.

"_Domo arigato_" he said half-heartedly. The speaker ignored him; maybe it wasn't programmed for the less common languages of Earth. Marvin filed that away too as he sat and ate. He didn't know what to do yet except pray for wisdom, or at least peace. His mind turned over thoughts of his family, school, friends and all that was left behind on Earth. At some point he drifted into a sleep.

"Rest interval over." Once again the voice was factual, neither pleading nor demanding. "You will now provide information on how to enter or destroy the base."

"I told you before; I don't have specific information on the structure of the base. What I can provide is possibly some insight that you are incapable of imagining."

"We do not imagine; we recall and project."

"I shall try to work around your weakness" Marvin retorted, knowing full well that the sarcasm would be lost; nevertheless he got some satisfaction from it, however.

And for two days he stalled, going over strategies that he knew would be dead ends and hypothesizing various defenses that would have to be overcome, including such mythical constructs as an undetectable force shield and a labyrinthine tunnel system. He claimed the need to rest and think on several occasions, stressing the weakness of flesh compared to the strength of machine. It was all a set-up for his true intention; a long-shot plan to foil his enemy.

At the end of the second day the voice summarized their conversations. "Your information has been useful, but only in eliminating possible tactics against the base. You have provided no means of achieving success."

"That is true; I cannot provide success unless you are capable of turning the star into a supernova" Marvin shrugged.

"That is impossible."

"Then there is no way to achieve success, unless...no, there is no way."

"You used the word 'unless'; it is used in conditional situations. Tell me the conditions which are necessary for success." Maybe he imagined it, but it seemed the words came out a little closer together as if desperation or hope had set in, if it was possible for the monstrosity.

"I spoke in error; the conditions would be unacceptable and the success would be too costly."

"Explain."

"I have to start with the history of Earth, and specifically a conflict we called World War II. My ancestors came from the area that represented one of the factions, a country called Japan..." and Marvin summarized the background and creation of the _Kamikaze_.

"So you see, it was a successful tactic in the short run but proved unsuccessful over a longer period" he summed up.

The voice was stilled for a long time as it parsed the information before it spoke again. "The plan has a chance for success."

"Yes."

"But success will come at the cost of this unit."

"Yes."

The speaker went silent and stayed that way during a sleep interval. When Marvin awoke, he found food available but no voice to interrogate him. Finally, an hour passed before the speaker came to life.

"If I am successful, the base cannot contribute to the efforts of mankind."

"That is true, but if you are destroyed in the act your contributions to the machines will also cease."

"Yes" the voice agreed, and Marvin was left alone in silence again.

His thoughts were interrupted again later. "I cannot determine if it is better to destroy the base and this unit, or not. Can you supply additional information that is helpful?"

Marvin covered his shock. The voice actually _asked_ for something instead of demanding it. "I cannot. I can provide insight from an actual _Kamikaze_ pilot of the era before his decision. He quoted:

_It is easy to talk about death in the abstract, as the ancient philosophers discussed. But it is real death I fear, and I don't know if I can overcome the fear. Even for a short life, there are many memories. For someone who had a good life, it is very difficult to part with it. But I reached a point of no return. I must plunge into an enemy vessel._

I guess we humans deal with fear as you machines must deal with determining the optimal outcome. Call it another weakness of ours."

Marvin could feel the vessel begin to move before it halted, then move before it stopped again. The indecision was now manifesting itself in action. The ship cycled between movement and stopping again. Finally, the movement kicked in again and did not cease.

"I have decided. A collision at great velocity preceded by weapons fire directly above the point should provide sufficient destructive power to the area of the base regardless of its specifications. Impact in ten minutes."

Marvin composed himself and silently said his final prayers. With two minutes remaining he could feel the vibrations of weapons being fired to soften up the non-existent target; the probe that was the only occupant of the planet perished in the first barrage of weapon fire. The dwarf planet would be badly scarred, but there would be one less Berserker that would not have let him live much longer anyway.

"One minute to impact."

"Bonzai" Marvin whispered and smiled.

...

_Capturing human prisoners referred to as 'goodlife', the machines interrogated and studied the subjects by offering to keep them alive in order to learn of new ways to defeat them. Sometimes it worked._

_Sometimes it didn't._

The End

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**A/N: A friend at school first introduced me to the Berserker series, and retold me some of the short stories from the series but it was many years before I actually got around to reading any of them. Naturally, I always cheered for the humans; hey, that's our team, right?**

**The quote is attributed to the WWII Japanese pilot Ichizo Hayash.**


End file.
